


Humanity

by Risingstorm15



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Angst, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Joker (DCU) Angst, Kidnapping, Misunderstandings, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:20:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28351569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Risingstorm15/pseuds/Risingstorm15
Summary: Gotham has long been the site of epic battles between Batman and the Joker, but lately the villain has been unusually quiet, leaving the Batfamily highly suspicious. At the same time a strange museum piece is taking the world by storm as no one seems to be able to translate the language, yet villains world wide seem desperate to get their hands on it.Could everything all cycle back to a tiny cafe and its mysterious owner?
Relationships: Joker (DCU)/Harleen Quinzel, Selina Kyle/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 5
Kudos: 31





	1. Chapter 1

It was a dark and stormy night.

No really, it was.

Gotham always seemed to be storming, and any sane resident always carried an umbrella to work regardless of how ‘fine’ the weather-man said the day would be. Joker himself was well versed in the nature of his city and in truth he should have been tucked up in his ‘lair’ with a line of Vodka shot glasses and a reheated Pop Tart.

But no, instead he was trudging through the rain, his dress shoes squelching as he determinedly made his way towards the only place still open at this time of night. The rose gold fairy lights were like a beacon in the dark of midnight.

He had forgone his usual purple pin-stripe suit for a deep crimson number, hoping that the fabric would hide the bloodstains from the bastard he’d gutted earlier.  
No one got away with calling his snookums a hooker.

His treasure was a flirt, and usually he didn’t mind because in the end Harley would never dream of straying from his side. She never usually let things get to her, so when he had seen the sudden dejection in her gaze when that fucker had called her out...well, no one would be identifying that particular body.  
Knowing his hair was plastered to his forehead, and the crisp lines of his suit had long since drooped, he knew that even without his reputation as a villain the owners of the store would likely be shrinking back from him.

‘Well fuck them,’ he mentally told himself, stamping his feet on the ghastly pink welcome mat that quite frankly made him want to puke, ‘No one’s signature look could hold up in this bloody downpour’.

It took more effort than usual to plaster on his usual smirk and jaunty voice as he shoved open the doors to the cafe and bakery known as, ‘Fairy Bread’.

‘I need your best cake, and make sure it’s chocolatey. Because if I’m not satisfied you know exactly what will happen,’ he stated nasally, making sure to heft his iron-weighted cane as he did so.

He expected screaming, blubbering pleas to ‘spare me, please’, or the cashier to even faint dead away as one memorable victim had done.

What he didn’t expect was for the young woman behind the counter to stare at him unnervingly as she deftly picked out an admittedly delicious looking cake from behind the glass. When she spoke her voice was filled with all the confusion her expression left out.

‘You’ll walk out?’

Joker was just about to yell, ‘No, you bitch, I’ll beat you over the head until you’re dead!’, when he realised that the woman still was staring at him fixedly, her dark eyes covered in a cloudy sheen.

Oh, he realised, she’s blind.

More than that she has no idea that he’s the Joker, or what he’d meant by his previous threat. She probably figured he was just an impatient customer expecting quality goods.

For a moment as he waited for her to pack his cake in a box he wanted to reveal himself and make good on his threat. But the thought of beating her to a bloody pulp when he wasn’t even being recognised for it was pointless.

‘Here you go sir, that’ll be fifteen dollars. Would you like a bag?’

‘Uhh yeah,’ Joker answered, fetching the bills from the wallet he always kept in his suit jacket. He trusted none of his bar managers to watch over his cash.  
This was the first time he had paid for anything he wanted in months.

Deciding he wanted to be far away from that blank and slightly off-putting stare, he quickly fetched his bag and thrust open the doors. On the threshold between cheery cafe light and rain he paused momentarily, knowing that this was his last chance to reveal himself and have an excuse to attack her.

He didn’t. And disappeared silently into the night.

‘Oh baby you shouldn’t have!’ Harley squealed when he revealed the boxed cake all lit up in hot pink candles he just knew she would like.

‘It’s your birthday, of course we’d be celebrating. But don’t forget Harls, if you touch the bottom when you cut the cake you have to kiss the closest guy,’ Joker commented as he slung his arm around her.

Harley grinned conspiratorially and slammed the knife right to the base before twirling in his arms and pressing a kiss delicately to his lips. Well of course one thing led to another and soon they were both collapsed on the couch, sweaty and exhausted as he fed her slices of the cake indulgently.

Each bite caused her to let out an almost orgasmic groan.

‘Oh baby it’s so good! Where did you get this thing? I hope you didn’t draw and quarter the baker’

Joker swallowed his own mouthful before offering her another, his expression twisting strangely as he replied.

‘No, the baker is very much alive. The only woman there was blind and it didn’t feel right to kill her off,’ he stated, shrugging as he did so.  
Harley snuggled closer, a furrow in her brow and an adorable purse of her lips.

‘You never hesitated before, disabled or not’.

Joker wasn’t really sure what to say because honestly she was right. He never hesitated, and that’s why his reputation was so strong.

‘I guess something about being un-recognised was pleasant. Being treated like everyone else reminded me I’m human’.

Harley remained quiet for a while, her expression almost melancholy as she mulled over her partner’s words. But as always, Joker didn’t need to hear her speak to know her mind.

Being pasted all over the news as monsters kept them in business, and more than that it meant that they wouldn’t just fade away from history when their time was up. But hearing people talk about you as if you were the boogeyman tended to make that one shred of humanity left feel lonely.

It was why he had been drawn to Harley, who didn’t treat him like an inhuman, feral creature like everyone else in Arkham did.  
And it was why the employee at ‘Fairy Bread’ was still breathing for another night.

‘Baby?’ Harley addressed, her voice drawing him out of his head in ways no one else could.

Focussing his gaze on her was enough of an acknowledgement of his attention for her to continue.

‘Can you maybe take me there some time?’

That vulnerable tone was enough to make him nod without hesitation. It seemed they were both in need of a bit of humanity.


	2. Lunch Dates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joker and Harley go out to lunch with an unwelcomed visitor, and maybe the cafe worker isn't what people think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to let you know in case you're wondering. Jaira is pronounced, J-EYE-RA. Also to reply to comments, this will be a multichapter fic, and no, Joker is still willing to be a murdering psychopath throughout our journey even though he may not seem it now.

‘Oh goodness I love it! It’s beautiful!’

Joker sighed as his wife pranced ahead of him and snapped a selfie in front of the cafe, the twinkling fairy lights making her skin glow. Harley always tended to be more...over-the-top with her bubbly persona in public to avoid citizens realising that she could at times be quite sane.  
It was better for both of them if people thought they were crazy all the time.

‘Of course you love it, it’s pink,’ he commented dryly.

Harley gave him a small glare before putting her phone securely away in whatever skin-tight pocket she had. ‘I for one believe the decorator has great taste’.

Taking her arm, he pushed open the doors and was greeted by absolute silence. The cafe was packed with people eating beautiful little desserts and grasping for coffee cups like they were the only thing keeping them going. The rose-gold bell above the door tinkled merrily as they entered, and people glanced up out of interest and habit expecting to see another lady with her kids, or maybe a businessman ruffled and late for work.

But to see the Joker and his partner standing casually in the doorway in broad daylight had everyone frozen in terror. 

In the end he didn’t even have to speak as the sight of his scarred face and Harley’s signature bat had them silently leaving their seats and streaming past him as he vacated the doorway.

The only people left in the room were two teens in pink aprons who looked like they might piss themselves and the woman from last night with her unnerving stare.

‘Good morning, would you like a table?’ she asked levelly, her expression giving no indication that she had any idea what had just occurred. 

‘Yes please, hon. A table for two,’ Harley chirped, moving to accept the offered menus which of course were in pink.

To anyone else she would have sounded downright excited, but to Joker who knew his wife so well he could detect the slight frustration in her voice. He understood entirely of course. When they were performing a crime or doing business it paid to have people terrified, but when they weren’t even threatening anyone it could be frustrating at times to have everyone running in terror.

As they moved to sit, they could vaguely hear the young boy with a smattering of freckles and huge eyes behind his glasses stammering away to the blind woman.

‘B-boss, d-do y-you r-realise w-who j-just walked in h-h-here?’

‘No. And I don’t really care who they are’.

This time Harley’s smile was more genuine as she glanced over the drink selection.

Half an hour later Harley had finally made her decision about a treat and had taken at least ten photos of the plate because: ‘It’s too lovely not to capture, snookums’.

Out of the corner of his eye Joker had noticed the woman smile softly at Harley’s praise.

Now he inwardly sighed as a gleam emerged in Harley’s gaze that he knew too well to mean she was coming up with an idea that may or may not blow up in his face. Sometimes literally.

‘What are you thinking?’ he asked levelly over the rim of his mug, taking a long sip of the glorious espresso within.

‘We should invite Pamela to join us!’ Harley squealed, mischief clear on her features.

Joker choked on his coffee, eyes wide and panicked. Despite his healthy respect for the woman, and for her friendship with his wife, Ivy could be difficult to get along with. Especially since she tended to struggle to relate to actual humans who didn’t behave like her beloved plants. She especially hadn’t had much glowing praise to pass on to him outside of business.

‘Honey, with all due respect….’ he began before almost choking on a startled breath as a cool voice spoke behind him.

‘I see I have come at the perfect time for lunch’.

Well shit. 

‘Pamela, so wonderful you could join us,’ Joker greeted, hoping she wouldn’t detect the annoyance in his tone.

‘Likewise,’ she replied as she sat gingerly down across from him.

The sharp stares she kept sending his way through lunch made it obvious that she was well aware of his inability to get along with her, and that the feeling was mutual. Thankfully Harley’s bright chatter meant he didn’t have to interact with her much as the other teen, a girl with white-blonde hair and truly awful braces cleared away their plates, her hands jittering so much she almost dropped the cutlery all over the floor. Clearly she was hoping to leave swiftly until Pamela’s cold voice stopped her in her tracks.

‘Lucy, was it? I’d like to speak with the chef please’

The girl went positively pale before glancing behind her and stammering, ‘B-boss. These people want to see you’.

Joker kind of felt bad for the poor sucker who was about to receive one of Pamela’s famous tirades. Goodness knows he’d been on the wrong end of one of those many times.

To his surprise, the blind woman sashayed delicately between the tables and stood before them with a questioning stare.

‘I hope everything was to your liking,’ she commented calmly.

Pamela stared at her dead on and Joker couldn’t resist muttering, ‘here it comes’, only to find himself surprised when she actually smiled. A real, unfiltered, genuine smile.

‘I wanted to thank you in person for serving quality vegetarian food. Not everyone treats precious plants and herbs with such care as they deserve’.

The woman, ‘Jaira’ if her name tag was to be believed, blinked in surprise before gesturing vaguely behind her.

‘We grow our own out the back to make sure they’re a better quality than the sad and shrivelled things at the store’

Pamela seemed to frickin light up. And that’s how Joker ended up wasting a whole afternoon listening to Pamela rave on about plants and gardening techniques with Jaira whenever she had a spare moment.

Eventually Harley stood unnoticed and gripped his arm lightly before whispering in his ear, ‘think we should leave them at it?’

‘Oh god yes’.

With the strike of midnight and none of her usual late night customers in sight, Jaira firmly locked the doors to her cafe and hoisted her stachel on to her shoulder. The streets were incredibly familiar as she tracked her way towards her apartment, listening intently to the movements around her.  
It paid to be attentive to one’s surroundings when you were a woman walking home alone at night. Especially since by the sound of the two sets of footsteps attempting to be quiet behind her, she was being tailed.

Gotham was a fantastic city for her to lay low and rebuild some semblance of a life but at its heart it was rotten and infested. The air itself felt cloying and dirty as she deliberately turned down a darkened alleyway.

A smirk crossed her lips as she heard the footsteps follow her swiftly and she spun with terror perfectly painted on her features at a loud clanging sound.

‘Give me your money! I’ve been casing your place for weeks and I know you carry cash in and out each day so don’t try and play dumb,’ a male’s voice snarled out of the dark.

‘You’re right, I do’ she replied.

She could feel surprise pouring off of them as they had clearly expected her to deny it. Their surprise didn’t last long as a strong gust of wind ripped through the alleyway, sending her dark brown hair flying and throwing them solidly against the brick walls with a resounding smack.  
To an onlooker it would have looked strange that they were hovering against the walls and clawing at their throats desperately as the air was sucked from their lungs without her even moving.

‘I don’t appreciate you threatening people. It’s scum like you who give Gotham a bad name,’ Jaira snapped, stalking closer to their vulnerable forms.

Releasing the wind’s hold on them slightly allowed them to talk and not risk death by suffocation, and the second perpetrator immediately began begging.

‘P-please have mercy!’

A scowl painting her features, she allowed them to drop to the ground groaning and shuddering with shock.

‘Don’t let me ever catch you attacking people again or next time I might reconsider crushing you both,’ she threatened, before delicately stepping over them.

Behind her the first man coughed loudly. ‘What the hell dude, wasn’t she supposed to be some blind, defenseless chick?’ 

Pausing at the mouth of the alleyway Jaira spun delicately to face them, her black trench coat swishing as she did so.

‘Whoever said I was blind?’


	3. Altercations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An officer makes trouble at the cafe and elsewhere the Gotham museum is attacked

‘I miss the old days’ Joker muttered as he sipped the last of his strawberry milkshake.

Sashaying over silently, Jaira re-filled the cup with eerie precision, her gaze fixed slightly over his shoulder. 

‘What do you mean the old days? You’ve only been a regular for three weeks!’ she challenged, her dark curls falling haphazardly out of her messy bun.\

‘What can I say? Harls and I are terrible cooks’

When Joker had first brought Harley to the cafe, Jaira was always the picture of ‘put-together’, always without a single hair out of place and perfectly ironed outfits. Now it was clear the added pressure of a constant full house had been getting to her.  
And a full-house it was.

Harley’s instagram post combined with the usual gossiping that the lady villains took part in had brought just about every villain in Gotham who was currently un-incarcerated by the Bat out of hiding. Almost every afternoon they would slowly make their way inside until by nightfall every table was full of laughing and relaxed villains.

Right now, Riddler was taking bets on the football game from those crowded around the small TV, cackling as he built up quite a large sum.

‘Boss, we need you!’ Lucy called, looking equally as frazzled as the rest of the workers.

Letting out a small sigh Jaira managed to focus a bit better on his face before giving an apologetic smile.

‘Sorry, duty calls’

Joker watched idly as she moved back between the tables, swinging her hips to avoid pushed-back chairs and patrons. When she had almost reached the kitchen she paused along with most of the building occupants as the football game was cut off by the loud chimes of a news broadcast.

Nadya Chambers’ perfect face flooded the screen as she shuffled her news papers at the desk.

‘Good evening Gotham. We interrupt tonight’s game to report that Gotham Museum’s latest acquisition, so dubbed the ‘Mystery Amulet’ has yet again seen attempts of theft. The GPD are urging anyone with information on the Amulet to come forth, while issuing stern warnings for its safety’

Booing noises filled the room as the report switched to a clip of Commissioner Gordon standing outside the museum, officers flanking him on either side. He looked just as tired as usual, his hair falling limply over his forehead. Yet despite this he stood strong and determined as ever.

‘Citizens of Gotham, the GPD are dedicated to assisting the museum in its protection of its artefacts. Please understand that Batman will also be assisting us with this task, and anyone caught attempting to steal the Amulet again will be punished to the full extent of the law’.

Soon after, the game once again filled the screen, and yet few were now paying attention to it.

‘That damned Bat,’ Two Face grumbled, nursing his cup of black coffee.

Rumble of approval was heard throughout the room. Almost everyone had their reasons to despise the Bat and his various sidekicks, whether for plans foiled or crimes stopped. But for others things ran deeper than that.

The mood changed suddenly as the door swung open with a pleasant jingle and a GPD officer in full uniform entered, clearly just having finished his shift. Clearly he hadn’t looked through the windows and seen who was inside, for he stopped short at the sight of just about every villain in Gotham staring back at him.  
Immediately he was reaching for his gun and swinging it in a threatening arc around the room.

Glancing out of the corner of his eye at the two teenage workers, Lucy and the freckled Simon, he was quick to yell, ‘Nobody move!’

The villains in the room glanced at each other incredulously before all looking to Joker, who usually took the unofficial lead amongst them. Not even bothering to give the officer his full attention, Joker idly sipped his milkshake, inwardly seething at the audacity of this guy.

Before he could drag out the hidden blade in his cane and really do some damage to that self-intitled face, Jaira wandered out of the kitchen with a dishrag in hand.  
‘Is there a problem officer?’

The policeman seemed reluctant to turn his gaze from the villains seated around the room, but like an idiot he looked away to address the new civilian. Clearly not expecting her unnerving stare, he flinched slightly before saying, ‘Uhh ma’m, do you know who is currently sitting in this establishment?’

Jaira dried her hands calmly on the towel before lifting her gaze to settle somewhat in his direction.

‘Yes, I do. This cafe is full of paying customers who have committed no criminal activities in my presence as far as I’m aware. Hence I am curious as to why you are threatening them with arrest’

The officer spluttered, his face reddening with annoyance, ‘No criminal activities? Your so called ‘paying customers’ are the worst scum of Gotham! They need to be in an isolation room, not a public cafe!’

Something dark seemed to flit across Jaira’s expression as she stepped forward, gesturing in the vague direction of the seated villains.

‘Are these people committing a criminal offence by sitting in my establishment?’

‘N-No…’ the officer blustered, looking increasingly furious.

‘Then you have no need to be threatening them. And you have no need to be here either, so I am going to ask you to leave’ Jaira replied.

The officer’s mouth dropped open in shock and he pointed at himself incredulously.

‘Me? Leave?’

‘Yes,’ Jaira acknowledged, ‘Or do you wish me to ask these fine customers to help me drag you out?’

One look at the vicious scarred grin of the Joker who was calmly watching the altercation, and the equally murderous stares of the other patrons had the policeman quickly losing his confidence. He quickly moved to exit the building as Scarecrow and Penguin stood threateningly, only pausing at the door to yell, ‘You’re all crazy!’  
When the police car sped away, Jaira quietly returned to the kitchen, unaware that she had just gained the respect of the Gotham underground.

Perched high atop one of the stone golems of St Peter’s Church, Bruce had one of the best views of the city. Still as a stone, he focussed the lenses of his mask on different areas beneath him in search of crimes that needed attention. In the background, his earpiece was playing the police scanner’s frequency.

A very faint patter of feet to his left was the only indication that he was no longer alone on the rooftop. Though it was unusual on his stony facade, a small smile broke out at the sound of the newcomer, who, for being a ridiculously muscled and tall man, was surprisingly quiet.

Moments later strong arms latched around him in a hug and Bruce curled slightly into the warmth of the familiar chest.

‘We’re in uniform, Nightwing,’ he said calmly.

Raven hair tickled his nose as his adopted son hugged him as tight as possible.

‘Everyone in Gotham has guessed we’re father and son by now,’ Dick reminded him cheekily.

They were quiet for a while after that, yet comfortable in their silence. His son’s usual bubbly energy was subdued enough that he didn’t mind waiting in silence out of respect for Bruce’s ‘patrol rules’.  
Soon both were tensing as the identical comms tuned in to a new report that whistled into the unofficial police channel kept for officers conversing with one another on patrol.

‘Hey Mason, I thought you clocked off hours ago’  
‘I did, Mikey, but I came across the creepiest thing, man. I went for coffee at this tiny cafe and I kid you not there were so many villains in there’  
‘Woah man, what were they doing?’  
‘Nothing. That’s the creepiest thing! What’s worse is the owner was some blind chick who literally lets them hang there. I don’t even know if she fully realises who they are’.  
‘That’s crazy man. I guess we can’t arrest them for drinking coffee but we’ll get Gordon to keep an eye on the place’  
‘Yeah. Anyway, see you tomorrow’

The scanner crackled as the conversation ended, and Nightwing turned to gaze at his partner through his lenses, an uncharacteristic seriousness to his features.  
‘Let’s go get some coffee, Nightwing’


End file.
